The obsidian spires of the Phenex estate felt heavier than ever. I stood still in my father's private sanctum, fifteen years old, in a room meant for matters of state, not family pride. My father's face was a blank mask, but his eyes held something strange. Awe, maybe. Or dread.
"You have reached Ultimate-class, Kael," he said. The words hung in the incense-filled air. "Sustained, controlled power. Far beyond any Phenex at your age. Far beyond Riser."
I didn't react. I had felt the shift months ago—a deeper, hotter reservoir of Phoenix Fire that answered me with terrifying precision. I kept it hidden. It was my final card against the dragons' wager. "I know," I replied flatly.
"You will keep it hidden," my father commanded, no room for argument. "The Great Clans—the Sitris, the Gremorys—they watch too closely. Ultimate-class power in a third son, bound to the Sitri heiress? It would upset their careful plans. You would become a target, not just an asset." He pushed a small, ornate obsidian box across the polished table. "Your Evil Pieces. Take them. Build your peerage quietly. Let Riser have the spotlight. It serves our purpose."
I opened the box. Inside were not eight pieces. There were two full sets: one King piece, one Queen, two Rooks, two Knights, two Bishops, and six Pawns. But three of the Pawns glowed with a strange, muted grey light, completely different from the others. When my fingers brushed them, understanding flooded my mind—not words, but pure instinct.
A system had activated. A Multiversal Summoning Protocol. It let me summon beings from other dimensions to become my peerage members. The cost was huge—it would drain my demonic energy heavily. The benefit was that upon successful integration, I would temporarily gain a perfect copy of the summoned being's core power and a lifetime of their memories and skills. After twenty-four hours, that would fade into instinct. The summoned being, in return, would get a permanent, massive boost to their own abilities, fused with demonic energy. One summon was allowed per lunar cycle. No store, no pre-selection. Intent and power resonance would guide the target. I needed unused Evil Pieces of the right type. The muted Pawns could only be used for this summoning. They couldn't reincarnate regular devils.
Ambition. Allies with burning ambition. That was the key.
The cold knot in my stomach tightened. Vali's deadline was always looming. I needed power now, power beyond what the Underworld expected. I needed minds that understood war and strategy.
I focused, pouring my Ultimate-class power into the system. I visualized raw determination, the hunger to move forward against impossible odds. The air crackled. Reality tore open. A vortex of swirling energy appeared in the center of the sanctum. My father staggered back with a shocked gasp.
A figure landed in a crouch. Silver-white hair, stern red eyes that swept the opulent room with razor-sharp assessment. Red armor plates over a blue kimono. A slight weariness in his posture, but an aura of immense, controlled power and cold intellect poured off him. Tobirama Senju, the Second Hokage.
"Where is this?" His voice was cold and precise. His hand moved instinctively toward a kunai pouch that wasn't there. His eyes locked onto me, sensing I was the source. "Explain."
I met his gaze. The copied memories started settling in—endless wars, loss, the weight of leadership, the relentless chase for knowledge and strength to protect his village. They hit my mind like shards of ice. I understood this man completely.
"Welcome, Tobirama Senju," I said. "I am Kael Phenex, a Devil Noble of the Underworld. I summoned you using a power beyond my world's norms."
"A Devil?" His eyes narrowed. "Explain the purpose. This energy feels binding."
"It is," I admitted, gesturing to the open box of Evil Pieces. "I need powerful allies with ambition. You sought strength and knowledge to protect your village against impossible odds. I face similar threats. To fight beside me, you must join my peerage—a binding contract that grants you immense power and immortality, fused with your own abilities." I explained the pieces: Rook for strength, Knight for speed, Bishop for magic and power amplification.
Tobirama studied the pieces. His mind worked at terrifying speed. He could feel the latent power in me and saw the flicker of copied memories in my eyes. "Power amplification. Immortality. A new world—new knowledge." His gaze sharpened. "The cost? My autonomy?"
"Your service as my peerage member," I clarified. "Loyalty. But your mind, your strategies, your ambition—that's why you're here. I need a tactician and warrior, not a slave. You would be my Bishop. Your chakra amplified by demonic magic. Access to entirely new forms of energy." I gestured to a stack of thick books on the table. Fundamentals of Demonic Energy Manipulation. Underworld Political Structures. The Great Clans and Their Histories. "Knowledge. Power. A chance to shape a new reality. That's the offer."
Tobirama stayed silent for a long moment. He could sense the truth in my words. The shared weight of responsibility. The hunger for strength born from necessity. He saw the potential—new jutsu fueled by demonic energy, immortality to safeguard knowledge, a whole new battlefield. "Ambition," he murmured, echoing my earlier thought. "Very well, Kael Phenex." He reached out, fingers hovering over the Bishop piece. "I accept the role of Bishop. Knowledge is power. Show me this new world."
The moment his fingers touched the piece, brilliant light swallowed him. I gasped as pure chakra flooded my system along with Tobirama's lifetime of combat experience, political maneuvering, and mastery of fuinjutsu. It was overwhelming—the sensation of water manipulation, the intricate mechanics of the Flying Raijin, the cold calculations of the Nidaime's mind. At the same time, Tobirama straightened, his eyes blazing with new energy as demonic power fused with his chakra coils, amplifying them far beyond anything before. The light faded. He stood taller, radiating a potent hybrid aura. I was left panting, the copied knowledge settling inside me, the temporary chakra surge already fading into pure instinct.
"Fascinating," Tobirama said, flexing his hand and sensing the new power thrumming inside him. "This energy—demonic power—has real potential. Now, explain the political landscape. Who are the threats? Who are the players?" He picked up the topmost book, his eyes already scanning the text with predatory focus.
Three days later, the grand hall echoed with uncomfortable silence. Lord and Lady Sitri stood like icy statues, their displeasure obvious. Sona stood beside them, her face a mask of calm calculation, but her knuckles were white around her fan. My father sat stiffly. My mother radiated nervous tension. I stood opposite them, Tobirama a silent, imposing presence just behind my right shoulder, radiating controlled power that made the Sitri guards visibly uneasy.
"Lord Phenex," Lord Sitri began, his voice clipped. "We have reviewed the proposed timeline. The engagement between Sona and Kael no longer aligns with our strategic objectives for Sona's peerage development. We formally request its dissolution."
A beat of stunned silence. My mother made a small, choked sound. My father's jaw tightened. I could feel his anger and humiliation. So they thought they could discard us now, after using the engagement as leverage for years? The icy fury rose inside me.
My father found his voice, strained. "Dissolution? After the agreements made, the assurances—"
Lady Sitri cut him off smoothly, her voice like poisoned silk. "Assurances change with circumstance, Lord Phenex. Sona's potential requires unencumbered focus. The Phenex connection, once advantageous, is now seen as limiting by certain factions we must appease." Her eyes flicked over me dismissively. "It is simply no longer beneficial."
I felt my father's anger and my mother's humiliation. I saw Sona's mask slip for just a fraction of a second—not guilt, but the sharp annoyance of a strategist whose plan was being changed by higher powers. Before my father could speak again, I stepped forward.
"Dissolution is acceptable," I stated, my voice cold and clear. Every head snapped toward me. Shock spread across my parents' faces. Sona's eyes widened slightly. Lord Sitri looked completely thrown off balance.
"What?" Lord Sitri sputtered.
"Acceptable," I repeated, locking eyes with Sona. "But not without consequence. The Sitri clan leveraged this engagement for political capital and security assurances for eight years. Dissolving it unilaterally, citing your shifting priorities, is a breach of faith. The Phenex demand compensation." I listed my terms: access to restricted Sitri magical archives for five years, a percentage of trade tariffs from key Sitri-controlled routes, and a public acknowledgment of the dissolution framed as a mutual strategic realignment to save face for us.
"Preposterous!" Lord Sitri barked. "Compensation? For releasing you from an advantageous bond? The audacity!"
Sona stepped forward, her calm voice cutting through her father's bluster. "Father. Lord Phenex." She bowed slightly. "Kael-kun raises valid points regarding precedent. However, compensation of that magnitude is excessive for dissolving a betrothal contract." She met my gaze directly. "Let us settle this through the established crucible. A Rating Game. When we both turn eighteen and have our peerages established. If I win, the dissolution stands without compensation. If you win, the Sitri will meet your compensation demands in full."
Clever. She preserved her family's pride, avoided immediate cost, and bet on her superior strategic mind and peerage-building time to crush me later. She saw Riser's laziness and assumed I was only slightly better. She didn't know about Tobirama. Or my power.
Lord Sitri looked ready to argue, but Lady Sitri placed a subtle hand on his arm. "A Rating Game," she purred. "A civilized solution. Demonstrating the strength of our respective heirs. Agreeable." Her eyes held contemptuous certainty. They thought it was a guaranteed win, a way to humiliate us further.
I let a cold smile touch my lips. "Agreed, Lady Sitri. A Rating Game at eighteen. Terms recorded and bound." I caught a flicker of surprise in Sona's eyes at my immediate acceptance. Good. Let them underestimate me.
Later that day, the tension hadn't faded when Riser swaggered into the family wing, preening. "Father! Excellent news! I've finalized my peerage. Strong, beautiful pieces! Now, about Ravel..." He grinned, completely blind to the charged atmosphere. "She's coming of age. Her Phoenix traits will make a perfect addition to my peerage. A Queen piece, naturally. Boost her flames, make her truly useful."
I was sitting in a corner, silently reviewing a demonic energy treatise with Tobirama. I went completely still. Ravel, playing nearby with an enchanted crystal, froze, her eyes wide with sudden fear. Useful? She's his sister, not a tool.
My father sighed and rubbed his temples. "Riser, Ravel is young. Her peerage placement requires careful—"
"Nonsense, Father!" Riser waved a dismissive hand. "Better she serves under me, the heir, than waste her potential. I'll have my Queen prepare her immediately." He reached out toward Ravel.
"No."
The word cracked like a whip. I was on my feet, the treatise forgotten. I stepped between Riser and Ravel, my posture radiating lethal stillness. Tobirama subtly shifted beside me, his hand resting near an imagined weapon, his eyes locked on Riser.
Riser blinked, affronted. "What did you say, little brother? This doesn't concern you."
"It concerns Ravel," I said, my voice low and dangerous. "She is not yours to claim. She will not be your useful piece."
His face flushed with anger. "You dare defy me? The heir? Who are you to decide her fate?" Phoenix Fire flickered around him as he puffed out his chest. "Step aside, Kael. This is beyond your station."
I didn't move. The icy fury I had fed for years roared to the surface, fueled by my hidden power, the dragons' wager, and the sheer arrogance of Riser treating our sister like property. "My station is her brother," I hissed. "And I say you won't touch her. Your peerage is filled with sycophants you bed, not warriors. Ravel deserves better than being another ornament in your harem."
Rage twisted his handsome face. "You insolent brat! I'll teach you respect!" Pure Phoenix Fire, hot and uncontrolled, erupted from him in a torrent, aimed not just at me but at the space where Ravel stood.
Time seemed to slow. I saw Ravel's terrified face. My parents' shock. Tobirama tensing.
I moved.
Not with Phoenix Fire, but with the speed of Ultimate-class demonic power and a decade of brutal training. I blurred, grabbing Ravel and shielding her with my body, spinning us away from the worst of the blast. Heat seared my back, but my own fire surged instantly, healing the burns almost as fast as they formed.
I set Ravel down behind Tobirama, who placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. His demonic-chakra hybrid aura flared protectively. I turned to face Riser, who looked momentarily stunned by my speed.
"Is that all, heir?" I asked, my voice dripping with cold contempt. "Petty flames and bluster? You think immortality makes you strong? It just makes you a harder target to put down."
Riser roared and launched himself at me, wreathed in fire, throwing a wild haymaker. I didn't flinch. I channeled my power—not just strength, but precision. I sidestepped his clumsy blow with effortless grace, my hand snapping out. No fire, just pure demonic energy hardening my grip. I caught his wrist like a vice.
The crack of bone echoed.
Riser screamed, more from shock and outrage than pain. His regeneration was already knitting the fracture, but the humiliation was instant and deep. I yanked him off balance, pivoted, and drove my knee into his stomach. The air burst out of him. Before he could recover, I twisted his broken wrist, forced him to his knees, and held a hand crackling with condensed, white-hot Phoenix Fire inches from his face. Not healing warmth—a searing promise of annihilation.
"Try to take her again," I whispered, cold fury burning in my eyes, "and I will melt the flesh from your bones faster than your pitiful regeneration can fix it. Immortality only means you get to feel it longer, Riser. Do you understand?"
He stared up at me, wide-eyed, breath ragged, cradling his healing wrist. The pain would vanish, but the shame, the utter defeat at the hands of his "bookish" younger brother, crushed him. He saw the absolute conviction in my eyes, the lethal power held back by a thread. He saw Tobirama's watchful, dangerous presence. He saw our parents, horrified and speechless.
He looked away, unable to meet my gaze. A low, choked sound escaped him. Submission.
I released him and let him slump to the floor. The fire in my hand died out. The hall fell completely silent except for Riser's ragged breathing and Ravel's quiet sobs. I turned my back on my brother and walked toward Ravel. I knelt, ignoring everyone's stares.
"Ravel," I said, my voice softer but still carrying an edge. "You choose your path. When you're ready. No one forces you. Understand?"
She nodded shakily and threw her arms around my neck. I held her, my gaze lifting to meet my father's shocked, complicated stare, then my mother's tearful one. Tobirama watched with a calculating glint in his eyes—assessment confirmed. This King has the will to protect his own.
I stood and guided Ravel away. The victory felt hollow. It tasted of ash and family ruin. I had protected Ravel and humiliated Riser, but the gilded cage felt tighter than ever. The Sitri game loomed ahead. Vali's wager was still a noose around my neck. The faint, icy pulse of the pact sigil in my palm was a constant reminder. The true enemy wasn't my arrogant brother or my calculating fiancée. It was time itself and the dragons watching from the shadows.
The crucible burned hotter than ever. I needed more allies. More power. The next on couldn't come soon enough.
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